


Come Back for Me

by thejollypirate



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Bonding, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Post 4x11, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 21:37:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3149309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejollypirate/pseuds/thejollypirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can hardly take any of it, and he barely keeps himself together. He knows her better than she knows herself.</p><p> <em>Post 4x11</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Back for Me

_**There’s a dark room inside of my head** _

_**Developing images I’d rather forget** _

_**You laced your tongue with poison** _

_**And it makes me remember** _

There was one thing he hated with all his heart, and that was his undying love for Emma Swan. It was stupid, so stupidly _amazing_ , and he regretted ever seeing her beautiful face that first time after he was found under a pile of bodies. The first time she held a dagger up to his neck, and claimed he was lying about everything.

He was tired, tired to hell, and he just wanted to sleep, get rest, not spend the rest of his day worrying. He had been stressed out, because after everything had been resolved temporarily in Storybrooke, everything just felt weird, different, out of place. Emma and him weren’t out fighting monsters, defeating an infamous villain, or anything of that sort- they weren’t being a team as they used to.

They were… well, a _couple._

Laid in bed, his modern leather jacket which was accustomed to his liking to fit into the new world, sat on the wooden chair across from the bed of Granny’s. Though as much as he had tried to forget everything, forget that he and Emma were together and finally freed of their own insecurities and worries, there were still thinks just stuck in his mind. Things that he’d had rather forgotten a long, long time ago.

Milah, his first love, still lingered around in one of the chambers in his head. But he knew that Emma was his second chance, his chance to make things better, become a better man, and most of all assure her of her happiness, along with Henry and her parents. (Even though they doubt him sometimes, though they’ve grown quite fond of him.)

The Dark One, the Crocodile, the man who took away his first love still drifted in his mind, and though he was banished from Storybrooke, there was no telling how he was going to return. There was no telling when one day he would wake up in a rush, run next to Emma, hold her, telling her they would find a way to solve the problem- together. But he was reverting his ways, changing to become a better man, and as much as he still had the urge to get his revenge, he knew it was wrong.

So when he tried to fall asleep, it was impossible, because there was just no time for peace and quiet- rather a difficult moment, under certain circumstances at least. Banging at his door is heard, and by the time he grumpily and reluctantly got up to answer, he didn’t get a chance, but instead is surprised by the sudden disruption of another human.

And only one other person held a key to his room.

Someone he’d rather not see at the moment, but that wasn’t the truth- not to him deep down, not after noticing her. He wanted her, he loved her with all his heart, and no matter the circumstance, he had no urge to resist her.

She bursted into his room in a hurry apparently, and when he cocked his head to the side confused of her compelling entrance, there was just a silence between them. It had been two weeks since all the events were sorted out, since he had a heart returned to him.

“Swan, not that I’m not glad you’re here, but what brings you here?”

“We need to talk.” There were a lot of breaths in between her talking, which only led to him to assume she had ran her way up the stairs.

And when she said that they needed to talk, he could tell the urgency in her voice, which made him only feel concerned. He wasn’t sure about what she wanted to talk about, at least not at the front of his mind. Out of habits, he furrowed his brows to her statement.

“Talk? We have all the time in the world to talk, love, so please, come in. Or would you rather we speak in the hallway?” he asked, pointing over her shoulder. “Your choice.”

“I think your room will do just fine,” she responded, and took steps forward into his room. Killian shifted his feet so she could walk in without ramming into his position.

He closed the door behind her, and spun around to notice her stand in front of the window, the view overlooking the streets of Storybrooke. “So, what is it that you’ve come here to talk about?”

He watched her head fall down, though he couldn’t see her face just yet. “You.”

“Ah, do I owe you the pleasure of anything, darling? Or am I merely being fooled by your vague choice of words?”

“You’re a god damn liar, and I can’t get over it!” she shouted, spinning around, her eyes fixed on his.

The response took him by surprise, and when he was confused of her peculiar behaviour, he only managed to say two words. “Excuse me?”

It had been two weeks- two weeks since the entire situation, but she was bringing it up now.

“You lied, you told me you would survive, and I nearly watched you, your heart, all of you, die,” she stuttered, “and when you told me you were good at surviving, I held no doubt about it. But I nearly lost you, and that, that promise you made, that you would _survive_ was _nearly_ broken!”

Taken by her strange, late reaction to the problem, he only stood there silently without a word to say. He was _usually_ good with speaking to women (or anyone, really,) it came flawlessly to him, elegant, fueled with mannerism and cocky responses too, but apparently he had been taken off guard by her this time around.

“Swan, I-”

“Let me talk,” she huffed out. “You, you’re more than what you set yourself to be. You set expectations higher than what you can achieve, and when you obviously don’t achieve them, you put yourself down, think you’re a villain, that you’re just a filthy, greedy pirate,” she exclaimed, approaching him.

She moved her hand up to his cheek, caressing it gently. Stunned by her choice of words, he also saw the worry in her bright green eyes. And as if she hadn’t projected her means further than that, she leaned in and kissed him right on the lips. It took him a second to react, her touch so intoxicating, the kiss just like poison on his tongue.

It gave him the mild feeling of guilt, just there somewhere deep in his gut, in his heart. So when he interlaced his hand in her blonde hair, his hook resting on the small of her back, she pulled back and sighed. Not a bad sign though.

“You need to give yourself more credit,” she mumbled, her hot breath seeping into his skin.

He dared to respond with something a bit too overwhelming to ruin the sweet moment. “And when I give meself more credit, I tend to feel worthy. And though that feeling is quite a lot to my satisfaction, I’m afraid I will disappoint you later to contradict that feeling of worthiness.”

“That’s where you learn from your mistakes,” she responded.

“And if there is nothing to be learnt?”

She took in a deep breath, and opened her eyes to him. “If you can’t learn from a mistake, you must be a real idiot, because if you do something and cannot figure out where you’ve gone wrong, you’re blind.”

 _Blind._ Described him perfectly fine sometimes, but then again he always saw the reason behind his mistakes, and there was no point in arguing against her point really. She was right, and though he was a 300 year old pirate, there were still times where he was just as incompetent to comprehend as he was when younger.

_**Every night I look at my window** _

_**Afraid you might return for more** _

_**I miss your frozen love too much** _

_**And I'd overdosed from just a touch** _

There were times where he would rewind and just think about his entire journey- the entirety of his developed life to the very moment where he stood there.

A small snowstorm overtook Storybrooke the night he had returned from relaxing at the docks on his own. Rather than spending time with the woman he loved (who was still oddly really busy on Sheriff duties,) he had spent his time staring up at the skies when laying on the old benches that sat by the waters.

He had spent his time staring into the endless points of the seas that encompassed the sides of the small town. He watched the sun vanish pass the horizon, and that was where he took his leave to go back to his room.

Though as much as he woke up the next morning with a sore neck, there were always things going on in his mind- things that just weren’t meant to be forgotten.

But when he heard a knock at the door, and was Emma walking in with some of that hot chocolate stuff, he smiled gratefully at her thoughtfulness. Sometime during their casual talking, he had felt better, no longer having that bothersome soreness in his neck.

As time slipped out of their hands, she had leaned over (they were sitting on the bed) and gave him a small kiss on the lips. Sweet like that chocolate stuff they drank.

“I’ll come back later tonight, got some stuff David wants me to take care of since he has to help Mary Margaret with my baby brother tonight,” she had explained, taking their mugs.

“No, love, no need to drop by tonight. You’ve already done good, I’m sure you will be quite weary by the end of the day,” he protested, making a fair point.

“We haven’t been spending that much time together, I sort of want us to have a little bit more alone time, you know?” she disagreed, not directly, but the intention was implied, and he had gotten the message loud and clear.

Killian sighed at the truth, but gave her a small smile and slipped an arm around her waist. “I’m positive we can arrange for some alone time later on this week, hm?” he mumbled, before kissing her cheek. “Relieve yourself of Sheriff duties, Swan. I’ll wait for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay.”

And that night, he sat on the edge of the bed, staring down the window which let in a cool breeze from the winter weather. He stood up slowly, neared the window, and pushed the foggy glass down to sever the process of the brisk winds that blew through.

It was late, at least to his knowledge because the skies showed likewise. It was dark, stars in the distance, not so clear, but enough that he could see them faintly.

He actually felt doubtful for once, thinking that there was the slightest chance she would drop by anyways, that she wasn’t going to go home later and just sleep. But, his theory was correct, because the door creaked open, and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her, he just didn’t bother spinning around because he knew who it was anyways. He stayed idly positioned by the window.

The touch of hers was like a drug to him, he was never going to get enough of her touch. And, he was most definitely never going to forget the first time she kissed him back in Neverland, claiming it was a one time thing.

“Swan, I thought I told you to go home and get rest,” he said, and he turned around to face her.

“I wanted to spend more time with you, at least for tonight. I’ve been missing being around you, it just feels so weird not having flying monkeys or villains to fight,” she stated, her voice soft and clearly tired. “You get that, right?”

“Aye, I do. It does feel different not having anyone to fight,” he agreed, pulling her into his embrace- him voluntarily holding- touching her left him breathless. “You need sleep, love.” She meant so much to him, how dearly lucky he was to be holding his one love.

“No, I don’t.”

Killian chuckled at her stubbornness, just as usual. “I beg to differ, Swan. You sound exhausted, let’s get you home, darling.”

“No, I’m fine. Seriously. Can’t I just stay the night with you?” she retaliated,

“Is that what the lady desires?” he asked.

She nodded slowly. “It is.”

There was a warming sensation in his heart, still so happy that he had gotten his heart back. “As you wish, love.”

And when he heard that click of the lamp going out, laying down next to Emma, his Emma Swan, he felt like the luckiest man alive on the world. He felt full, she had filled that void in his heart, that void of where he had sworn to probably never love another woman again.

But that was all a lie, he loved her, only her, and made a promise to himself to cherish her with all he could. Albeit any obstacles they had faced (not those that involved all of Storybrooke’s well being) in their own lives, they worked together to beat them.

_**Baby don't come back** _

_**Oh, whatever you do** _

_**Don't come back for me** _

_**After all I've bled for you** _

_**I can hardly breathe** _

_**And one more kiss could take my life**_

Next morning, he awoke to a sound asleep woman in his bed, his woman at the least. He watched her chest move up and down, he felt her warmth, and it was much of a dream to him. If he had known he was going to end up with her all of his life, he would had done everything to be a better man, to have never went down a path for revenge.

Perhaps that was wrong though, that road of revenge led him to her. It set him free finally when she was getting through to him, she set him free of his rampage for revenge, to be hers, to be done with his reckless beliefs.

Though as much as he thought about it, he wished he would had done more to be a better person in his life regardless. But by no means did he mean not loving Milah, not that, rather he thought of the predicament he was in, the problem where he made a stupid decision to get his hand back, even when the Crocodile had kindly warned him of the hazards of reattaching his old hand. And so, there he went getting his hand back, making a deal, a _stupid_ deal which nearly had him killed in the end.

A _stupid_ deal which nearly broke the one he loved.

And times like that, he had desired just to die, just to have what the Dark One did best- to kill. Times like that, he had rather wanted to die, even if it meant having to have one wish granted. He wanted to die, he wanted Emma to not come after him at times, and the day he saw her down at the bottom of the clock tower, he swore he nearly broke down inside, even without a heart in his chest- even without the thing that he wanted back; even without the thing he voluntarily set himself up to.

And when Belle saved him, he might had felt alleviated of all the frightening thoughts, but he knew all so well that Emma was going to blame herself, blame herself for not taking action sooner. He knew, and so he blamed himself, because well, it was his fault. At least that’s how he saw it. He made a ruthless decision, and he was being his _selfish_ self because he had simply assumed Emma would have appreciated him more if he had both his hands.

But, she _didn’t_ care, because she liked him just the way he was. She didn’t need a loss of his to come in the way of their relationship, and when he had been revealed to that truth, it made him sink deeper into the pool of guilt inside of him. It was disgraceful of him, and it was shameful of him to think that a hook would have gotten in the way of their feelings, their thoughts, their relationship.

After all, he did love her, and she felt the same. And sometimes, he would still feel that she didn’t deserve him, that she deserved a man better than him, better than a dirty pirate.

However, their everlasting love, it was just not going to simply fade away like that. He might have wanted to die, and he knew so well she would not let his death be in vain, but there were times where he seriously believed that he didn’t deserve any of it.

On the other hand, she would prove him wrong, and she would bring in all these points which showed how much she appreciated all his work. He traded his home, his ship, for her. He helped get Henry, her son, back from Neverland. He watched her experience the process of their parents journey to falling in love. No matter how many times he saw it like that, she proved him to that, he would always think the opposite- but by no means was he a pessimist. Different point of view, that was all.

And when he woke up from falling asleep after being caught up in his thoughts after seeing Emma earlier on, he turned around to notice the empty bed. It felt… bigger without her. Even though he had slept in that bed for more than a few months now, he still hadn’t felt it before.

He found it difficult to catch his breath, to know that he was holding her last night in his arms, laying next to his love for once. (It wasn’t that he never held her at all in bed, it was just often rare due to the lack of time they had been spending together.) He felt like he could hardly breathe to his knowledge, and when he was finally out of bed, there was a note on the ledge of the window which had caught his eye.

_David needed me at the station. Meet me downstairs at around 10:30. I didn’t want to wake you up, so I’ll see you soon._

_Love you,_

_Emma_

Gaze fixed on the paper, he understood it, she was inviting him for breakfast, or something like that. He looked over to notice the clock on the wall above the door, and it said 10:13. The least he had done was not oversleep.

But, when the time came, he agreed to it, and went down the stairs to enter the diner part of the building. He saw her immediately, sitting casually on the one of the stools at the counter, so he weaved his way past a couple of citizens and snuck up behind her.

“Good morning, Swan,” he mumbled, then kissing her on the cheek.

She perked up slightly, and he smiled at her small response. “Oh, hey. For a moment I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I did such a horrible thing, love?”

She simply rolled her eyes at his response. “It’s too early for me to be dealing with your questions, Killian.”

He hummed quietly before a question popped into his mind. “So, how was your slumber last night?”

“Was one of the best sleeps I’ve had in a while, honestly,” she confessed, taking the mug of coffee that Granny had slid to her.

“I wonder why,” he muttered, a small smirk appeared.

He listened to her scoff at his remark, and by the end of their little breakfast, she kissed him gently on the lips, having to leave to deal with something Will Scarlet had done again. Always ruined their personal time, but it was fine with him.

He didn’t need to feel rushed about it at all. He was enjoying this casual, slow blossoming thing before them, he enjoyed going through the process, being able to soak himself in the realization of how much he loved her.

And when she left after that kiss, he didn’t want her to return because every time she came into his view, talked to him, touched him- kissed him, it was just too much for him to handle. If he had gotten another kiss that day, he might as well have died at her hands.

_**There's a fire inside of my bed** _

_**Made of calls that I deeply regret** _

_**Oh, you left me burning with the embers** _

_**And I barely made it out alive** _

When he returned that night, he reflected back on the things he had done earlier on. Though Emma had left after their little meeting, he shortly followed her to the station. There, he spent his time talking to David, and probably left quite an impression.

He also asked questions of why Emma didn’t return the previous night.

Killian didn’t lie, he told him the truth, was upfront about how she stayed over at his. Surprisingly, David didn’t choose to punch him in the face, rather he appreciated he told him he was in safe hands. They had finally started to open up and grow fond of him, and he felt good about that. After the entire snow and ice problem, David had slowly became a lot more trustworthy to him, and Killian did the same in return. Cooperation at their best. (Didn’t mind the bonding between them either, huh?)

And when he slipped into bed after thinking about what had happened, he fell asleep quite quickly to his liking. But, something had eventually bothered him throughout his slumber. He felt heat rising inside of him, and it was all most likely just a figment of his entire imagination. But when he felt it getting worse, for some reason, he began thinking of his past.

All of his past- mainly the _shitty_ memories.

He somehow managed to wake up, the sun barely over the horizon, shining faintly through the window. But what he hadn’t realized was the reason of how he woke up.

Freaking out, he hadn’t realized he was thinking of Emma the entire time after it began. He had a dead stare at the ceiling, and didn’t move. The light slowly began showing itself more, lighting the room up fully- no longer the dull neutral feeling.

Killian’s hands were moist, he had been sweating all night, he also had one of the pillows thrown off to the side of the floor, and his hair was in quite a mess. He quickly slid the window so he could get some fresh air, and although the breeze was utterly cold, (thanks, winter) it helped him calm down. He hadn’t felt so concerned in his life, at least not within the last couple of weeks- there was no danger around.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, before finally closing the window, no longer requiring the winds to cool him down. “What in the demon was that?” he cursed under his breath, grabbing his leather jacket.

Where he found comfort was not just Emma, but being by the docks, by the water. Seeing the small waves splash against the wooden planks he stood on, though covered in white snow, kept him intact. He would always return to the docks, even if his Jolly Roger wasn’t there anymore. As much as he missed her, he traded her away for Emma. For her- it was the right thing to do.

The frosty air he could see, and closed his eyes. The negative degreed temperatures had dropped quite a bit overnight, and lasted till the morning. And, though he was cold, he had endured much worse conditions, especially when he traveled on seas.

He didn’t know how long he stood there watching the small waves crash, he didn’t know how long she had sat in the bug in the distance, watching him.

When she had finally approached him at the docks, there were questions to be asked.

“Killian? What are you doing here? It’s freezing,” she inquired, pulling her jacket closer to her.

Unsure of whether telling her that he had some odd nightmares last night, he decided it was best to not lie- especially if she could tell if he was lying. “Rough sleep, love. Came here to rid my mind of the thoughts,” he explained. He wasn’t completely telling her everything, but it was the general premise, all she really needed to know.

“Anything I should be concerned about?”

He sighed, the air turning white. Killian shook his head. “No, nothing you should worry about, darling,” he insisted, and when he realized she wasn’t off chasing a Will Scarlet, or investigating who robbed a vase, he questioned it. “No duties today?”

“David offered to take over, don’t know why he suddenly decided on giving me a break, but I guess that gives me time to be with you.”

So when he recalled the previous days events while he was speaking to David, her father, there was a sense of sympathy in his voice somehow. And though he couldn’t precisely pinpoint why he was so nice to him recently, it was a good change.

He thought about what to do, technically he had nothing to do. No villains to be chased and defeated, nothing. “What activities would you like to do today?”

“Number one; let’s get out of here,” she said, and tugged on the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Your place or mine?”

He grimaced at the options. As much as he enjoyed being in his room, it _wasn’t_ exactly _his_ place. In addition, he wasn’t sure about one other person. “Wouldn’t your mother mind my presence?”

“No, I think she’ll be busy taking care of Neal. Plus, my parents don’t exactly hate you anymore, you know that, right?”

"Fair statement, let us go to your loft," he agreed, taking her hand in his. "You're literally freezing, love. You could have waited for me inside that car thing of yours."

She started advancing forward, and he followed next to her. "I'm okay, and it's just called a car, Killian."

"Pardon my mistakes, it will still take awhile for me to adjust to these modern settings," he apologized, holding her closely.

"And am I the one responsible to make you get used to these settings?”

Killian chuckled and nodded. “Indeed you are.”

He quickly got around to the passenger side, right at Emma slipped in, starting the automobile. The ride back was silent, and though it seemed odd that they weren’t talking, he didn’t find it uncomfortable.

They entered the loft, and the first thing he had heard (positive she heard it as well) was the baby crying. The shrieking cries soon softened as Emma went to deal with the situation. Killian just waited downstairs for her return, and well, she returned… with Mary Margaret and baby Neal.

He was not going to get out of this alive.

_**Oh, you're back inside my dreams** _

_**Broken bones and empty screams** _

_**Sleep at night in burning sheets** _

_**Lightning strikes inside my eyes** _

_**Tell me is this love a lie** _

_**Tell me now or set me free**_

Throughout the day, he spent his time with her, and the rest of her family- even the young lad dropped by after being with Regina for previous nights. Despite the small family reunion (he did feel happy around them,) there was a part of him that wished he could have had that life.

But, in spite of his differences with the rest, they accepted him genuinely, which was just enough to keep him satisfied. When night approached quickly, everyone had went to their rooms to sleep, and Killian had to return back to his room at Granny’s. It was quick, though helpful that she offered to drive him over.

“There’s no need to, love. Today has already been wonderful being around with your family,” he said, while standing in front of the loft’s entrance.

“Come on, I’m pretty sure the temperature has dropped, and that you wouldn’t want to walk ten minutes in the dark and cold.”

A sigh escaped him, unsure of what to even respond to that. “Do I even have a choice here, Swan?” he asked, using his hook to brush a couple strands of her blonde hair out of the way.

“I am technically the law here, so no you do not have a choice, you’re getting a drive.”

Killian grunted out of defeat, and waited for Emma to grab her jacket. During the short car ride, she also insisted to walk him upstairs, to see that he wouldn’t do something dumb- not that he would, right? He could reckon that she just wanted to spend time with him- every last second to be savoured.

He couldn’t blame her for feeling that way.

When they stood outside his room, Killian pulled her in closely and pressed a small kiss to her lips- not to mention the small smile that couldn’t be rid of off his face. “Good night, Swan.”

But, before she could have answered him, he unlocked the door and walked in, only hearing a faint ‘good night’ in response when he shut the door behind him.

The regular flask of rum he usually had kept on him sat on the ledge of the window, so he approached it and picked it up. Right as he was about to take a swig before heading to bed, he watched the streets of Storybrooke become alive the moment he saw Emma enter her car. He became quite intrigued (oddly) and watched her drive off.

Flask in hand, he finally took a drink, the harsh taste of the rum flowing down his throat.

Needless to say, he felt the same feeling in bed again like the previous night- except this time it had a larger turn to it. It felt as his skin was burning, shedding into ashes in the process. He felt like his bones were hollowed out, flimsy and broken. The dark room enveloped him, and in this murky, blackened room of his, he was seeing things and feeling things- also hearing some pretty frightening calls.

_Killian stood in front of the loft, nervous about what he had to do. But, when he knocked on the door numerous times, there was no answer. Becoming impatient, he bursted inside to find the house rather empty completely. Nothing. Just old wooden planks._

_So he decided to check the station, and when he was breathless by the time he got there, he found that the station was empty-to-nothing as well. Just the cells untouched, the Sheriff desk unoccupied._

_Barely keeping up with the new discoveries he had made, he searched everywhere possible, and when he found nothing- he thought of the worse. But, when he laid down on the old bench by the docks, staring up into the dark sky, the weather changed abruptly. Clueless about anything, his eyes closed. Loud, crackling noises echoed in his mind by the time he had passed out on the bench, and when his eyes slowly opened, there was something- no, someone there with him. He wasn’t laying on the bench by the docks, and he wasn’t at his room in Granny’s, the room looked vaguely familiar._

_But, when he sat up he found himself staring at the back of a woman with long, curly blonde hair. It was no mistake that it was Emma, but before he was able to reach out and pull her over to him, thunder and lightning struck outside._

His hands gripped tightly on his pillow, and he sat up quickly taking in heavy breaths. He had some dream, a weird one, and though he usually barely remembered his dreams, it was certainly different this time around. He glanced over at the clock, which ticked slowly, only to show it was 3:16. For once, he wanted to get a good sleep.

By the time he had fallen back asleep peacefully, it didn’t last much longer because he woke up at least once each hour until he had taken enough of the bullcrap and decided to stop trying.

It was _only_ 6:38.

So as usual, he dressed himself in the only clothes he really had and took his time to the docks. The docks were like his safehaven, though reminding him of some rather extraordinary memories time to time, it wasn’t much he couldn’t handle. The frosty weather had not really taken any toll on him, besides the fact his ears were practically ice.

And when he stood there reminiscing, thinking, analyzing, and sometimes even forgetting, he gravitated toward standing there for hours.

This time around, it wasn’t anything of the usual, it was more of that odd predicament he always fell into whenever in bed. Rather than thinking of the fond memories he had on waters, he thought of the emptiness he had seen, he thought about the love that sat in front of him before waking up from being startled by the weather in his dream.

It was a new experience, because he had never had such dreams before. And when he went back to figure out why, it shedded light on the fact it began when they had been spending less time together during the past two weeks.

He stared at the blue waters sway back and forth, which reminded him of her blonde hair elegantly flowing in the wind. Every road, every item, every movement, everything reminded him of her, and it was just becoming some sort of insanity being developed in his mind.

Killian was numbed by the weather, he didn’t know how long he had spent standing there staring into the colossal waters. He watched the time go by, though personally not aware of the time, he still knew it was flying by- both slowly and quickly. He didn’t know why he was having weird dreams, feeling horrible the moment he woke up… it seemed a bit too coincidental according to the timing of their relationship. It really distracted him from the norm.

Albeit his frozen hand, red and cold, he was still able to function with them at it’s full potential. Another hand slipped in with his, intertwining their fingers, and when he just glanced over to the side to notice it was Emma, he wasn’t able to do anything but smile slowly like a complete idiot who was starstruck by seeing his love.

"Again? In the cold?"

A laugh escaped from him. "Is there something bothering you about me being out here?"

"Besides you catching a cold? Totally nothing," she whined, the sarcasm clear in her tone.

He didn't know if he had ever felt more attracted to her, especially as of lately, but hell, just knowing her care made him feel a lot more conscious about his every move. He still thought their entire relationship was a fluke, and he really did win her heart over in the end, and it definitely wasn't because of any trickery. A sense of accomplishment was somewhere in the bellows of his heart, but sometimes he had wondered what had finally set them free to this entire thing.

Maybe because he could see a reflection of himself in her sometimes, or maybe it was just that she had the most outstanding personality ever (not to mention her appearance,) but whatever it was, he was not going anywhere any time soon- this woman wouldn't let him anyways.

Yeah, so there was no other way of being freed of her love then.

_**Oh, whatever you do** _

_**Don't come back for me** _

_**After all I've bled for you** _

_**I can hardly breathe** _

By the point of being persuaded to work on a case with her, she had asked him to be her deputy. David was not against the suggestion, and neither was Killian honestly. He was rather excited, because he had been spending his time in boredom. This was a chance for him to work with her as a team again.

“So, what will we be doing today?” Killian questioned, standing behind her while she was gathering her possessions off the desk.

“We’re going on a little trip,” she responded.

How interested he was. “A trip? Ooh, how exhilarating, Swan. Where’s it we’re going?”

“Gold’s Pawn Shop.”

Killian grimaced at her answer, he did not know what they had to be doing there. “The Crocodile’s Pawn Shop? What’ve we need to be there for?”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll find some things that might become useful, and there’s no telling when, or how he’ll return, remember? So, we’ll pretty much take anything that seems suspicious for now.”

“Perhaps you are correct, let us go,” he replied, throwing his arm around her shoulders. “I’d reckon you’ve hired me as _your_ deputy because you’re worried about my well being,” he whispered into her ear.

Emma rolled her eyes at him. “Why can’t you take things simply, and just accept that I want to spend more time with you?”

“Given our history, can you blame me for being uncertain?”

“What?”

He laughed and pressed his lips against her blonde curls, giving him time to recall some of their previous history. “You’ve saved me so many times, more than I can count, love. I’m sure you don’t want me to be getting into any more trouble.”

“You know, there are times where I’d like to dump you into a well and just let you drown,” she said with a straight face, glaring up at him.

“Ah, but I’m a survivor,” he retorted, a big grin appearing on his face.

“Okay, you know what, let’s get going. I think we’ve had enough chatter for the afternoon,” she mumbled, dragging him by the collar of his leather jacket. “And don’t even think about more ways to outsmart me at the moment, or we are not going to have dinner tonight.”

There was something off about her statement, and Killian looked over at her. “I don’t recall you inviting me over for dinner, darling. Have I missed something of yours?”

“You know you’re always welcome to eat with us, right? I mean, yeah, given you and… David’s past, and the fact that you’re- you were a pirate, they might be skeptical, but they know about this thing between us,” she explained, opening the door to her car, but not taking her seat inside yet.

The chilly breeze was one thing, but her presence was on another scale. “Well, I’m not one to intrude on your family dinners, love. Needless to say, I am still a pirate,” he countered, standing on the other side of the yellow car.

“You’re not a pirate, Killian.”

“Quite the contrary, love. I still have my pirate ways,” he protested, seeing the air turn white at the weather.

She shrugged with a small smile. “Yeah, yeah, like rum?”

In an attempt to lift the mood up, he sighed at her remark. “Are you insulting the good liquor?” he asked, sounding a little bit like a pout.

“Boo hoo, pirate. Get in the car,” she stated, slipping into the automobile.

And as much as he had the urge to say ‘As you wish,’ he pushed himself back to not say it, just because it didn’t seem like a time to… mock her, really. She always had some relation with those terms.

For the next several hours- actually no, it was like two hours, but, he didn’t exactly feel pleasured being there, Emma being the only one who he really loved accompanying. They searched through the Pawn Shop and here and there were a couple of things that they would find interesting, so they would place it the trunk of her car.

When the time had quickly slipped out of their hands, Emma had brought the attention to it, and Killian only simply agreed with her.

He wanted to take a quick stop by the docks, admiring the sunset.

“Today was lovely, Swan,” he muttered, holding her hand as they stood at the edge of the docks, watching the wonderful colours accommodate the sunset. (Regardless of the cold weather, there was still always a great view.)

“I knew you’d like it,” she agreed, resting her head on his shoulder. If it had been all the simplest things that had turned him on (not sexually all the time, but it’s still considered,) to loving her to that point, he’d have gone insane by then.

He inhaled, the cold air spreading throughout his insides, and then exhaled, the air quickly fogging up. “You indeed know what I want,” he finally responded.

“Perceptive, right?” she added in a term that they’d been both familiar with ever since their first meeting under a pile of deceased beings.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her short statement. “Aye,” he mumbled, staring into the endless horizon. “I think it’s time we get you home, love.”

“I think it’s time we head back to your room at Granny’s,” she protested, her hand tightened around his. This was not helping him stay calm and composed.

He closed his eyes at the thought of what the night would turn out to be. He didn’t know if he could handle any of what she might have had in mind. “Is that what you’d like?”

“What do you think, Jones?”

“I think I’ll abide by whatever you desire,” he muttered, his thumb rubbing circles over her hand softly.

And though he didn’t see her smile, he could simply feel it without the need to look at her. “To your place it is.”

That night ended with a bang, literally. Caught up in each others hair, body, and just love had gotten them into quite a mess; especially by the next morning. Little did he realize, he didn’t sleep badly, he didn’t have bad dreams, and he didn’t feel as hot as a burning fire. Being with her numbed it all away.

While he was aware of the previous time, he had partially expected her to be gone to the station, but when he opened his eyes to her still asleep in his arms, he had sighed softly of relief.

All the relief flushed through his body. She was still there.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead gently, their bare skin touching, warmth being transferred throughout the both of them. He had taken a quick glance at the clock, which said it was 7:25. He was a early waker, it had became a habit of his while on ship.

“Woah, you’re up wayyyy too early,” she mumbled, her voice gentle and barely audible.

He chuckled, and pushed a strand of her hair out of her face. “Sorry, love, I didn’t wake you, did I?”

The beautiful golden hair of hers, falling naturally over her shoulders, her small smile, the nose scrunching. How much more adorable was it to watch her? It was ridiculous- ridiculously _stupid_ and _good._

“No, you didn’t. But I’m going back to sleep, and you can’t do a single thing about that. Not to mention it’s my day off,” she mumbled, before drifting back into his arms, dozing off.

There weren’t many days or nights like the time before, but even the smallest action of affection, the smallest words with intentions and meanings had caught his attention. She was putting effort into trying to spend time with him- but some of those times, he saw himself pulling back away from her.

She was a drug to him- mind, and body.

Not an understatement whatsoever, she was fermented in his bones, and he just couldn’t say no to her. It was impossible for him to ever deny her, to ever fight against her.

Seriously, he could barely breathe when being around her. He could barely fathom how he’d spend endless hours working with her, and then the next they're in some very arousing point in the day. It was ripping him apart, he was getting too close with her, and there was no way he was ever going to be ever to run away from all this.

He was not a damn boy. He was a honourable man really, and if she had wanted all this with him all along, well he was going to give every damn possible to live up to her expectations, to even exceed them. But as said drug, he was addicted; every word, every move, everything about her.

But it wasn’t just her which made him sometimes have the need to pull away and run, to not be the honourable man of good form and fight. The young lad, even her parents concerned him, frightened him to some sort of certain extent. He would panic, at least in his mind, because he didn’t know how much of a good impression he had put on them (ignoring the fact he knew that they enjoyed his company quite a lot,) but he would still worry.

He didn’t know if he could be a fatherly figure to Henry, not after Baelf- Neal.

He didn’t know if he could be seen as a loving companion to their daughter.

Yes, he was a pirate, a dirty one to say, one who had horrible intentions. But many were always driven by love, even though he was seen as a villain. He still saw himself as a villain sometimes, unsure about where he really stood.

Dark, or light?

And bloody hell, if he had really had to choose, it was the light. He was with the Saviour, and she clearly admitted to trusting him already. Pirate and the Princess, Pirate and Saviour? Nonsense to him, it was just Killian and Emma, nothing more, nothing less.

_**And one more kiss** _

_**Could take my life** _

Hours passed after the first few words were exchanged early in the morning. It was 10:30, but Emma refused- well… she was being Emma.

“Love, I think it’s best we get out of bed,” he muttered, rolling his eyes at how stubborn she was being.

She groaned, complaining at his statement. “But this is so comfy,” she responded, nuzzling herself into his arms.

“I’m afraid this will become a habit, darling. I can’t stand being here with you like this, it’s mentally frustrating,” he admitted, snaking his arm under her back. He could feel her hair pressed against his bare chest, the feeling slightly ticklish. “Swan, you’re killing me.”

“Good. That means I can stay here a bit longer with you,” she mumbled, her hot breath seeping deep down into his skin.

Killian let out a soft groan, unable to keep himself intact any further. She was literally the death of him. “Swan,” he grunted out, closing his eyes, “perhaps I can stay here longer.”

“You’ve never rejected this before, so I didn’t plan for you to want to get out of bed,” she said, glancing up at him.

He smiled from one end to the other and chuckled. “I just imagined us doing more pleasurable activities, darling.”

“A repeat of last night? Take it slow, Captain,” she whispered softly into his ear. “Enjoy the moments, won’t you?”

“Ah, now if I’m the Captain, should I not be the one in charge of this ship?”

“You are not going literal on me right now, I think it’s too early for me to deal with your cocky responses,” she spoke, raising her voice slightly.

Killian watched her intently, with a rather confused face. “Love, it’s way past ten o’clock, this is considered early?”

“Can I not have my own sense of time?” she responded, moving her hand up to caress his cheek gently, scraping over his scruff. “Work has screwed over my sleep schedule.”

“I admit I do appreciate your hard work lately. In fact, I must say I’m impressed with how far you’ve come,” he complimented, kissing her forehead.

She took it the wrong way. “You’ve doubted me?”

“Not at all, love. I’ve yet to see you fail,” he explained his meaning, assuring her it wasn’t meant the way she saw it. “And say if I have doubted you, well, you’ve won me over, have you not?”

“You know how cheesy you sound?”

“Cheesy?” Killian begun, raising an eyebrow. “Is that a term used to describe someone?”

“Sometimes I forget you’re a three hundred year old pirate,” she muttered.

“And do you have a problem with a three hundred year old pirate in your bed?” he teased, his smirk growing large.

Emma sighed, most likely because of the way he always spoke. “You’re not as bad as you think,” she responded, staring into his eyes.

And god, did he just want a repeat of the previous night. Her emerald green eyes, stunning, just like the colour of poison. But then time and time again, he would remind himself how soulful her eyes seemed to be, how much more passion and love contained in them.

She wasn’t the lost girl she claimed she was anymore, she was the strong saviour, the strong woman who finally found her way somehow along the way. Also, he was there to witness it all, and in fact, there was a part of him which knew he was a part of that solution she found to her problems- quite a warming sensation to know you had helped someone with their happiness.

But his heart, still beating there in his chest, sped up while their gazes locked onto each others. His arm had slipped out from being around her, and he brought it up to play with her hair. “You know Swan, I want to thank you for everything,” he said, his voice soft and gentle.

“There’s no need,” she replied, a small smile appearing on her face.

He shook his head subtly. “Well, you’ve saved me many times, and you’ve definitely been giving me my happy ending. The happy endings you’ve promised, and not one person has yet to complain about you- including myself,” he exclaimed and took a pause to take in a breath. “You mean more than you think, I believe that you need to give yourself more credit too.”

“I should be thanking you,” she bluntly spoke, and he immediately watched her retreat a bit slightly, her walls being put up- not enough to keep him out.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “And why’s that?”

“You’re the first one that has really taken me this seriously, changed me, encouraged me, and loved me,” her voice cracked when she said the last thing, and Killian smiled. “I’m serious,” she added in quietly.

“Well love, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about any of that anymore,” he said, closing the distance between their faces. “And no way in bloody seven hells would I leave you for anything in the world.”

And though he saw the risk of his movements, he didn’t care anymore. He was thrilled to touch her skin, hear her speak, watch her smile. His forehead was pressed against hers (he could get used to having moments like these again,) and kissed her gently on the lips. There was no pulling back, rejection, or fear anymore.

Filled with passion, love, care, sympathy, hope. It was everything they both needed in their lives, and they were both there to provide it for the other. And hell, Killian was dying inside.

He loved her to death, he would cross an infinite amount of oceans to get to her, even if it was the greatest obstacle he would have had to face. If he had saw this as his future, he definitely would have changed his ways faster, perhaps quicken their relationship, but then again, everything happened for a reason. He was somehow destined to meet her, even under those dead bodies.

Even though he had nearly drowned because of Zelena, she had given him mouth-to-mouth so he could live.

Also the day he had confessed giving his ship over to bring her back into Storybrooke, he had known there was something under those layers in her; that she cared, she wanted to, she was willing to, and she would have left the world behind to thank him for his actions.

And that night when she spoke and nearly broke down into tears because she explained about how she did trust him, and just didn’t want to lose him like any of her previous lovers, it only gave him the assurance and drive to push forward and be there with her.

If there was someone out there who knew her better than she knew herself, it was him- _only_ him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> _If you'd like to go listen to the song, it's called "Come Back for Me" by Jaymes Young._   
>  _Please give me some thoughts on this new style! If you'd like more song based stories, pitch in some ideas! I spent like four days writing this because my muse was on and off._


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